


Hero Work

by fluffyxcloud



Category: Highlight | Beast (Band)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Fluffy, M/M, b2st is the best, doowoon - Freeform, my personal favorite, not well defined superpowers, shockingly yoseob is not in this one, superhero au, the one that no one asked for, wat - Freeform, written long before the split :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 10:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13121949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffyxcloud/pseuds/fluffyxcloud
Summary: Dongwoon is a superhero. Doojoon is his college professor.





	Hero Work

_Mediocrity is the most effective mask a superior spirit can wear, because to the great majority, which is to say, to the mediocre, it will not suggest a disguise:—and yet it is precisely for their sake that he puts it on—so as not to arouse them, and, indeed, not infrequently to avoid this out of pity and benevolence._

_—Friedrich Nietzsche_

 

 

****  
****

 

Dongwoon perched on a high rise rooftop, squatting near the dirty gutter and peering out at the blinking lights of the city. It was quiet up here, rushing wind muffling the sounds of traffic and revelry far below. Taking in a deep breath, Dongwoon cast his gaze towards the direction of a certain individual’s apartment. He must be in there—perhaps doing something mundane. Reading the newspaper or watching television. Dongwoon could imagine him doing all those things. Maybe if he had time he would stop by…

 

His senses pricked up, niggling in the back of his mind and he knew it was time to get back to work. Standing up at the edge of the roof, Dongwoon pulled his mask down over his eyes and leapt off, gliding down and into the night.

 

 

****

 

It was a quiet night—three robberies, a rapist, and five muggers. The muggers were easy, and Dongwoon enjoyed scaring the living hell out of them. Perhaps they’d go to school tomorrow like they were supposed to. He flew over and settled down on the roof across from a certain, commonly visited building. He had been craving this moment all day.

 

Looking in through the window with startling clarity, Dongwoon watched as a tall, dark haired man wandered into the living room from his kitchen, mug in hand. Dongwoon drank in the image—he was wearing those black sweatpants that he wore so often, and a thin tank clung to his chest. He had obviously taken a shower, as his normally styled hair was soft and flopping down over his forehead.

 

The man bypassed the couch in his living room and continued through to the next one—his bedroom. Dongwoon stared as the man pulled back a heavy green comforter, sliding onto his rather large mattress, before placing it over his raised knees. He had his mug balanced in one hand the whole time and Dongwoon was quietly impressed at his balance. The man reached over to the small stand next to him and grabbed a book off the surface. He had started a new one, Dongwoon noticed. He read voraciously.

 

Dongwoon inwardly cried when, as the man brought the mug to his lips, the tingling resumed in the back of his mind. It was times like this that he cursed his gift, hated that he had responsibilities outside of work and paying bills. Right now he resented those who were too weak to save themselves because all Dongwoon wanted to do was make time to get to know this man. He wanted to become part of the scene he stopped by to witness night after night.

 

With one last lingering glace, Dongwoon watched the man flip the page of his book, and Dongwoon was gone.

 

 

****

 

Doojoon yawned, bringing a fist up to cover his mouth. He had stayed up too late last night reading. It couldn’t be helped—it was a good book. He clutched a bunch of files in one hand and wove around the packed hallway, students leaving their classes and lingering in the walkway.

 

Doojoon laughed out loud in irony that the area surrounding the teachers’ offices was by far the least crowded. Of course students would avoid offices like the plague; at least, until finals rolled around. Then they’d come crawling back here. He let out another laugh as he approached his door, feeling quite maniacal. But then he noticed a mop of brown hair resting against the back of a chair placed outside his office. Seeing the long legs that sprawled out in front, Doojoon recognized the hair as belonging to his favorite student.

 

“Dongwoon,” Doojoon called out. He grinned at seeing the head jolt in shock. Dongwoon straightened up and turned around in his chair, smiling brightly.

 

“Professor!” Dongwoon said happily. “Do you have a minute; I need to ask you something.”

 

“Of course,” Doojoon replied, opening his office door and gesturing at Dongwoon to come in. The tall man entered and perched in a chair next to Doojoon’s crowded desk, setting his bag down next to him.

 

“Just a second,” Doojoon said, putting the files down on a messy pile of papers and sitting in his rolling chair, “I have to check something really quick and I’ll get right to you.” He swiveled to his computer and started typed quickly.

 

Dongwoon took a look around the office, taking in the grey painted walls and the planks of wood nailed to three of them, forming makeshift bookshelves. The books were piled up and stacked row upon row. Dongwoon often wondered if Doojoon had read all of them. As he surveyed the room, he reflected on how comfortable he was in this small area—the musty smell of books mixed with Doojoon’s cologne had been his constant companion the last four years at university.

 

Doojoon finished typing and turned to face his student. “What can I do for you,” he asked, leaning against the back of his seat and crossing his legs. Dongwoon clasped his hands loosely in his lap.

 

“I’m graduating the end of this term, and I decided to apply for a job at an office nearby,” Dongwoon began. “They require two letters of recommendation.”

 

A smile grew on Doojoon’s face but he patiently waited for Dongwoon to finish his request.

 

“Would you,” Dongwoon stared into Doojoon’s eyes, “Would you please write me a letter of recommendation? As a last request from your favorite student?”

 

Doojoon smiled kindly and simply said “how could I refuse?”

 

Dongwoon grinned and grabbed Doojoon’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically. “Thanks, Professor Yoon!” He stood up and took his bag, slinging it over one shoulder.

 

“No problem,” Doojoon said, suddenly feeling like a hero from Dongwoon’s elatedness. “Just email me the specs later, okay?”

 

“Got it,” Dongwoon said and began to walk out of the office.

 

“Oh and Dongwoon,” Doojoon called at the lanky student’s back. Dongwoon stopped and turned around. “Make sure you stop by for tea again sometime, it’s been a while.”

 

Dongwoon flashed his grin again. “Sure thing,” he said before turning around and nearly walking into the wall. He let out a loud laugh and glanced nervously back at Doojoon before walking away.

 

Doojoon laughed quietly and went back into his office. He had a lot of papers to grade.

 

 

****

 

The scruffy man pushed the girl into the wall, breath reeking of alcohol and days of squalor. She whimpered, too scared to call for help. Her arms went across her chest protectively and she leaned fearfully against the wall. The man shrugged himself out of his ripped flannel shirt and leered drunkenly at the small woman in front of him, reaching a hand out to grab at her flowing shirt.

 

And he was down, passed out on the ground at her purple, sparkly shoes. The girl looked through wide, tearful eyes at the downed man in front of her. Her eyes caught feet by the prone body and she looked up, seeing a tall, masked man standing in front of her. Dark eyes peered at her through a black mask, covering his eyes but stopping at the bridge of his nose. She took in a shuddering breath.

 

“Th-thank you,” she stammered, fists still clutched around the loose material of her sleeves.

 

The masked man nodded silently and grabbed the foul man by his ratty white undershirt. She watched as he seemed to jump impossibly high, reaching the roof and becoming obscured by brick and mortar. He was gone before she could even label him in her mind and she quickly whipped out her phone despite still shaking hands and dialed her friend’s number. “Oh my god,” she whispered into the receiver, walking into the lit street, “I was just saved by a hero.”

 

 

****

 

Dongwoon dropped the unwashed moron off at the police station to be slung in the detox center and slapped with an attempted rape arrest charge. He slid behind the center and quickly took off his mask, rifling a hand through his hair and changing out of his black clothing. Donning jeans, he slipped out of the nearby alley and melted into the streets, an average college student once again. He slowed down to a crawl, body hurting from his many late nights and constant endeavors. Not to mention he was still a full-time student.

 

As he trudged along the road, he happened to glance into a coffee shop window, eyes scanning over the patrons inside. He stopped, eyes fixated on one figure leaning over his table and writing on a stack of papers. Dongwoon’s heart quickened and a smile twitched at his tired features. He quickly walked into the store, bell tinkling his arrival. The young man working the counter yelled a welcome and Dongwoon turned right, immediately walking towards the familiar figure staring intently at a paper in his hands.

 

Dongwoon slid into the seat across from Doojoon, still grinning and said “grading essays?” Doojoon jumped and his eyes flew up to meet Dongwoon’s.

 

“Ah, Dongwoon,” he said, eyes crinkling in a smile and putting the paper down. “What are you doing up so late?”

 

“I should ask you the same thing, professor,” Dongwoon asked, propping his elbows on the table. “Don’t you have classes tomorrow?”

 

“I have to grade these essays,” Doojoon answered, making a slight face. “Freshman English. Honestly, I should have been a high school physical education teacher. I would have been able to play soccer then, at least.”

 

Dongwoon laughed. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m sure I was no better.”

 

“Nonsense,” Doojoon scolded, picking up the coffee cup at his elbow and taking a sip.

 

Dongwoon mentally prepared himself. “Can I have that tea with you now, professor?”

 

Doojoon eyed Dongwoon’s face, taking in the tired countenance and exhaustion emanating from the younger man. “Sure,” he said, wrinkling his brow, “I think a break would be good for you. You look like the dead.”

 

“I’m just busy,” Dongwoon defended, waving a vague hand. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He stood from the table and walked over to the counter, eyeing the menu and picking out a tea. But as he was about to order, the familiar sensation niggled in his head again. Dongwoon felt like ripping out his hair.

 

“Dammit,” he cursed quietly. He closed his eyes and took in a calming breath. Turning around he walked back to Doojoon, sitting patiently at the table. The older man looked questioningly at Dongwoon’s return.

 

“I’m sorry, professor,” Dongwoon said apologetically. “I totally forgot I have something to take care of.”

 

Doojoon looked at Dongwoon’s slumped shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “I’m a bit worried, to be honest.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Dongwoon reassured, “I just…totally forgot about it. I’m so sorry; I really wanted to have one of our chats again.”

 

“It’s okay,” Doojoon said, scowling worriedly at his student’s face, “I guess I should finish these essays anyway.”

 

“Sorry,” Dongwoon said one last time and quickly left the coffee shop.

 

He slipped into a dark corner and swiftly pulled his mask on, throwing his black pants back on and flying into the night. Whoever interrupted him was going to get the beating of a lifetime.

 

 

****

 

Dongwoon wanted to faint right there on the street. It was three in the morning and he had gone thirty-four hours without sleep. Still wearing his mask, he walked in the shadows back to his apartment. He wouldn’t get to stop by Doojoon’s apartment, but Dongwoon tried to take comfort knowing that he had seen the teacher tonight already. Talked to him, even. Wasn’t that better? Dongwoon sighed. How could a hero be so cowardly when it came to one man?

 

He turned the corner and suddenly felt the tingling in his head again. Dongwoon blinked slowly and instead of cursing his fate for the millionth time, he instead focused on where the trouble was. Focusing his mind, he registered the danger as being nearby, and he turned down an adjacent street and picked up his pace.

 

Up ahead was a thug, black ski cap covering his face. Pathetic. But then Dongwoon registered three other presences. Casting his eyes around, he spotted two others flanking the original thug, all three following one man. Dongwoon squinted a bit and the soon-to-be-mugged figure stepped into the light.

 

What was his life? Dongwoon wondered. It was Doojoon, probably coming home from finishing his work. It was Doojoon, book bag slung over one shoulder, tie loosened around his neck, casually eyeing the stars—it was Doojoon who was going to get attacked by these three men.

 

Dongwoon felt the fire of anger lick his insides but as he moved to intercept the center thug, the criminal moved forward, breaking into a run towards the unsuspecting teacher. Dongwoon let out a shout and Doojoon spun around, eyes widening in shock at the man rushing towards him. Dongwoon quickly tackled the thug to his left and threw out a silver disk towards the right thug, knocking his legs out. He scrambled to his feet to catch the front runner, but Doojoon sent out a powerful kick on his own, catching the main thug in the crotch and sending him crying to the ground. Dongwoon squeezed the pressure point of the man underneath him and he fell limp. He staggered to his feet—that burst of energy and adrenaline proving too much for his already exhausted body. He went to the other man, crying on the ground with two broken legs and also rendered him unconscious. He felt bad at his excessive force, but with Doojoon in danger, he didn’t really think about holding back. Dongwoon mechanically performed these tasks before walking up to the man himself, panting harshly and glaring at the man crying at his feet. They met eyes for a moment and Dongwoon leaned down, one last time sending a man unconscious. He straightened and looked at Doojoon directly. For being an almost victim, the man was holding himself together rather well.

 

“Oh my god,” Doojoon said in a daze, “that scared the shit out of me.”

 

“Hopefully not literally” Dongwoon said, forgetting their position and he quickly bit his tongue, cursing at his slip.

 

Doojoon let out a weak laugh and then seemed the register the familiar tenor of the masked man’s voice. He stared suspiciously into Dongwoon’s eyes. The younger man felt like he wasn’t wearing his mask and he averted his gaze, looking instead at the empty street around them.

 

“Thank you,” Doojoon said, eyes still raking over Dongwoon’s body suspiciously. Dongwoon nodded and grabbed a small cell phone out of a zippered pocket in his pants. He glanced around at the buildings and quickly typed in some key features, sending a text to the police. “Technology sure is great,” Doojoon said, trying to tempt the masked figure into talking. “Saves you the trouble of bringing them in yourself.” Dongwoon cleared his throat and tried to speak in a deeper voice.

 

“Are you alright,” he rasped and felt stupidly like Batman.

 

“I’m fine,” Doojoon said cautiously. “Do I know you?”

 

Dongwoon decided talking was a bad idea. He turned to walk away but was so focused on the man behind him he walked straight into the wall. He let out a loud laugh and glanced nervously back at Doojoon before flying up to the nearest roof. He ran away feeling a bit like a coward and wishing like nothing else that he could have acted out Spiderman instead. Kissing Doojoon would have been better than that pathetic rasp he tried.

 

A minute later he backtracked and followed Doojoon to make sure he got home alright despite the protests of his weary body.

 

 

****

 

As if recognizing Dongwoon’s desperate need for rest, things calmed down for the next few weeks. Dongwoon found himself more often than not peering into the tidy apartment from his perch on the adjacent building’s rooftop. He gazed in, almost obsessively, at his professor. But stripped from his suits, ties and gel, he appeared more like Doojoon and less like Professor Yoon. This man, Dongwoon rationalized, was capable of loving him. Not as a mentor, but as an equal. On that rooftop, littered with bits of paper and inhabited only by other small rodents and insects, Dongwoon indulged himself in his fantasies—Doojoon wanting him as much as he was wanted; Doojoon following him after graduation and confessing, kissing the younger man with fervor as he knelt on one knee and promised forever; Doojoon and him curling up on that plush couch mere feet away and watching (or not watching) a movie; Doojoon and him growing old; Doojoon knowing what it was Dongwoon did at nights, his secret, his charge.

 

Dongwoon stared in night after night and his body hummed, his heart beat, his mind sang for Doojoon.

 

He didn’t know that while staring at the printed words on his latest novel, Doojoon was thinking of him. More importantly, Doojoon was thinking of a familiar loud laugh and embarrassed exit into a wall.

 

 

****

 

Dongwoon knocked hesitantly on the wooden frame of Doojoon’s open office door. Doojoon, with small glasses perched on his nose, quickly turned to face the arrival and smiled when he recognized the lanky brunette at the door.

 

“Dongwoon, I was just getting an envelope for your letter,” Doojoon said amicably and gestured for the other to enter his office.

 

“I guess I have good timing then,” Dongwoon grinned and sat in the well-worn chair. Doojoon shuffled around his crowded desktop, opened several small drawers on the side and rifled through countless papers before rising up from the bottom drawer with an “a-ha” and a cream envelope clenched in his hand.

 

“My god, I have to clean this mess,” he joked, picking up an official looking sheet of paper and folding it in threes before sliding it into the envelope. Dongwoon took in the other man’s crisp shirt, top button undone, and swallowed, adams apple bobbing in his throat.

 

“Dongwoon, you alright?” Doojoon asked, concern once again evident in his features. Dongwoon blushed at being caught acting so awkwardly and he quickly scratched the back of his head, laughing loudly. Doojoon froze and his eyebrow’s cinched together.

 

“I’m fine,” Dongwoon said, too caught up in examining the small, homely office to notice his professor’s change in countenance, “just tired.”

 

“Hmm,” Doojoon said, staring the younger man down. “Staying up late?”

 

Dongwoon chuckled nervously. “You could say that.” Doojoon leaned against his desk and crossed his arms, envelope still wedged between two fingers on his right hand. Dongwoon finally began to notice his professor’s suspicion.

 

“What,” he asked. “I’m not doing anything sketch, Professor Yoon, I promise,” he joked weakly.

 

Doojoon quirked a lip but still looked odd and let out a small breath before saying, “Dongwoon, you know if you need to talk to anyone, I’m always here for you.”

 

Dongwoon’s heart picked up in his chest from those words. His eyes imperceptibly widened and nervous fingers plucked at his jean clad thighs. “I uh…do you always offer an ear to your students?” he asked, probing for information, hoping for some confirmation of his favoritism.

 

“Only the ones I like,” Doojoon said teasingly. The words hung in the air, tangible, and both knew there was a charge to that statement that wasn’t addressed.

 

“Professor I—” Dongwoon started before swallowing heavily and falling silent. “Thank you,” he said after a pause, “for writing me this letter. It means a lot to me.”

 

“I’m here if you need anything else,” Doojoon said softly, pushing up from the desk and handing the envelope over. Dongwoon stood from his chair and gently grasped the stiff paper, intentionally brushing his long fingers over his professor’s dry, warm hands.

 

“Thanks,” he said again, blushing and looking at the floor. Doojoon was still staring at him with that piercing gaze, and Dongwoon silently grabbed his book bag and left the office, feeling that he missed something important.

 

 

****

 

Doojoon was worried.

 

Worried and irritated. Worried and irritated and wondering where the _hell_ Dongwoon was. He looked out from his perch on the stage across the sea of black clothed graduates chatting excitedly with one another—discussing careers, after graduation parties, and marriages—and his eyes continually confirmed the absence of one tall, intelligent, incredible person. A nudge to his side brought him from his thoughts. A co-worker stared questioningly at him.

 

“It’s nothing,” Doojoon assured. “I’m just looking at all our graduates.”

 

Doojoon settled in his seat but his eyes kept straining. Even after the ceremony commenced and the speeches went underway, Doojoon scanned his eyes over the waving ripples of black and his mind raced.

 

After the ceremony ended, Doojoon felt his body droop. His once crisp black suit sagged from the humidity of early summer, and he agitatedly loosened his black tie. Slumping in the cheap metal chair he was provided, Doojoon rubbed his brow to ward away the encroaching headache.

 

Dongwoon hadn’t shown up. To his own graduation. Doojoon felt cheated himself, as when he’d had the boy in his Freshman English class, he’d made it a present of some sorts to himself to watch the man graduate from this university. Feeling more worried than angry, Doojoon resolved to go check the now former student’s apartment.

 

Doojoon was afraid that his suspicions may be correct and he should worry for the younger man’s safety.

 

 

****

 

The trip to Dongwoon’s apartment seemed infinite, although it was probably no more than half an hour. Doojoon had taken his car, a new, sleek purchase, and light traffic had ensured his quick arrival. Finding a spot to park, however, was a different matter. By the time Doojoon had secured himself a place, an extra ten minutes had passed and his unease had mounted.

 

Dongwoon was flying over buildings, cursing his fate. He wanted to graduate with his friends. He especially wanted to see the proud look on Doojoon’s face as he walked across the stage to accept his diploma. Instead he was forced to throw away all his fantasies of the older man confessing his love immediately after Dongwoon was no longer a student and proceed to consummate their new relationship in a remote location nearby. He growled in his throat and continued his journey home.

 

Doojoon stepped out of his car and walked up to the apartment building Dongwoon inhabited. Entering the narrow lobby, he stepped into the sterile elevator and pressed the seventeenth floor.

 

Dongwoon landed a block away and changed clothes, walking the rest of the way to his apartment entrance, scuffing his shoes and staring angrily at the sidewalk. He entered the coolness of his building and, seeing the elevator conveniently open, jogged for the doors.

 

Doojoon saw a figure running and pressed the hold button, allowing the person he had been searching for into the small space. The metal doors closed in finality behind him and Dongwoon gaped at the other presence in the elevator.

 

“Hello Dongwoon,” Doojoon said, staring into Dongwoon’s wide eyes. The boy stared back, mind racing. His hand clutched his mask and he tried to nonchalantly slide it into his back pocket.

 

“P-professor,” he stammered, half shocked half desperately wishing some of his more wild fantasies would begin to come true. “What are you even doing here?”

 

“Looking for you,” Doojoon said through narrowed eyes. He was raking them over Dongwoon’s figure, taking in the rumpled jeans, shoddy tee and ruffled hair. “You missed graduation.” He said obviously.

 

“I didn’t want to,” Dongwoon said sullenly, “something came up.”

 

“Something involving that thing you just slid in your back pocket?”  


Dongwoon blinked rapidly and his mind raced with excuses. “W-what?” he managed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Instead of furthering the dialogue, Doojoon grabbed one of Dongwoon’s thin hips and spun him around, grabbing the mask from his back pocket before spinning him back, hand still clenching onto a bony hipbone. “This, Dongwoon,” He said tersely. “I’m not stupid.”

 

Dongwoon made a grab for it, lunging forward towards the black material grasped in Doojoon’s left hand but Doojoon moved away. It seemed like a classic game of keep-away but Dongwoon was tired, not ready for this confrontation. He stepped forward desperately and pressed against his professor, flush against his body and in his desperation he pressed a palm flat against his teacher’s chest.

 

Why was Doojoon’s heart beating so quickly?

 

Dongwoon froze, realizing the compromise of their position, pressed up against an elevator with a man who hours ago had been his professor, his greatest secret clutched in the man’s hand. Hadn’t one of his fantasies gone this way? Instead of feeling elated, Dongwoon felt scared.

 

Doojoon’s head was pressed against the cool metal and he used that to fight the now pounding headache that evolved from the graduation ceremony. He let out a shaky breath, feeling everywhere Dongwoon was pressed against him like a brand, and tilted his head up to look at the object in his hand.

 

“Dongwoon this…” Doojoon trailed off, pulling his other arm up to stretch the mask out between two hands. Dongwoon realized the futility of the situation and stepped back, albeit reluctantly, to assess the damage.

 

Doojoon was staring fixedly at the mask and Dongwoon could see memories of an attempted mugging flashing through his mind.

 

“I—I” his mind tried to think of something, anything to say but instead all Dongwoon could do was watch helplessly as Doojoon gazed on the mask. His eyes slowly slid to match the younger man’s and Dongwoon desperately tried to keep ahold of that gaze, decipher the other man’s mind. Doojoon just kept staring.

 

“You really…” Doojoon gulped. “You really…uh…the other time when…”

 

Dongwoon wished he could have appreciated the first time Doojoon was at a loss for words. Instead he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

 

The elevator dinged its arrival.

 

“Please,” Dongwoon said softly, reaching three fingers forward to grasp ever-so-lightly on Doojoon’s loosened tie. “Please give me a chance to explain everything to you properly.”

 

Doojoon blinked once, slowly, and began to follow the slight pull of Dongwoon’s fingers into his apartment.

 

As the door clunked close behind him, Doojoon mechanically took off his shoes and stepped into Dongwoon’s apartment. He slid into a spot on the empty couch, making himself at home but too shocked to feel rude about his forwardness.

 

Dongwoon bustled in the kitchen and brought out a bottle of soju and two small glasses. “I was kind of saving this for after graduation,” Dongwoon muttered, placing the two glasses down and opening the lid of the green bottle, “but it’s kind of useless now, isn’t it?”

 

Doojoon let a small smile slip onto his face at his former student’s cuteness. The mask, however, was proving a tangible link to the impending conversation.

 

They both took their glass and downed the first drink. One shot. And then Dongwoon refilled them.

 

“It makes sense,” Doojoon said after a moment. “The tired-ness, the absences, the content of your writing…I didn’t actually even think anything was up until the night you saved me. You…” he paused and smiled fondly in memory. “You ran into the wall and laughed just like you had the other day. There’s no way I couldn’t recognize that…”

 

Dongwoon was waiting for the freak out to begin.

 

“What are you _doing_?” Doojoon finally asked, downing his drink and placing it back on the table. Dongwoon refilled it. “You could get hurt! Being a vigilante is not a good idea Dongwoon!” He downed the next one.

 

Dongwoon was silent and refilled Doojoon’s glass. He drank his own, turning to the side appropriately, and placed his glass on the table before refilling it again. The clear liquid was burning his throat and steadying his hands.

 

“It’s not exactly vigilante,” Dongwoon said, and even in his own ears his voice was pathetic, weak.

 

Doojoon pursed his lips. He thought back to that night and then…there it was, Dongwoon thought, there was the realization.

 

“You flew…” he said in awe.

 

“And I know martial arts. Really all I can do that others can’t is fly, everything else I had to do on my own. I can tell when people are in trouble I can’t just ignore that and continue living KNOWING that someone is getting hurt! I tried but by the time I hit high school the guilt and pain was so bad professor, I had to do something or I was going to go crazy!”

 

Dongwoon felt his heart race and knew he was going hysterical so he took another drink and tried to calm down.

 

Doojoon was silent, staring at Dongwoon and he felt naked under his crushes’ gaze. “I…” Dongwoon gulped. “I just wanted to be your favorite student and…possibly more after graduation but now…you probably just want to get the hell out of here, don’t you?”

 

Doojoon let out a woosh of air. His headache coupled with his quick influx of alcohol had his head spinning and sending spots in front of his vision. “Oh my god,” he said faintly, “I think my brain is going to explode.” Dongwoon’s eyes widened as the other’s rolled back in his head.

 

And Doojoon fainted on the couch.

 

 

****

 

“I’m sorry,” were the first words Doojoon heard upon his return to consciousness. His mind was muddy and he tried to place where he was. What happened?

 

He remembered being at the graduation. The headache. Dongwoon wasn’t there so he went to his apartment. Running into the other man in the elevator. The mask. Soju.

 

Flying.

 

Dongwoon confessed to him.

 

Doojoon suddenly wasn’t surprised that he passed out.

 

“You sure know how to lay everything out at once,” he croaked, pushing up on his arms and moving to a sitting position on the bed. Dongwoon’s sheets were blue and soft and smelled like him. He took in the miserable face of the brunette by his bedside. Dongwoon handed him a cup of water and Doojoon drank it thirstily.

 

“Sorry,” he said again, biting his lip and staring at his lap. Doojoon smiled at the display and put the empty cup down next to him.

 

“Dongwoon,” he said, coaxing the other man to look up at him. “To be quite frank with you, I feel like I’m in a fiction novel. But…it’s weird how things are turning out more like Jane Austen and less like Poe.”

 

Dongwoon twined his fingers together on his lap and was confused.

 

“I like you,” Doojoon said honestly. “And I knew you liked me. It was obvious for all four years. It took me a bit to get used to the idea, but I’m not your teacher anymore and…”

 

Dongwoon’s eyes were saucers and he gaped as Doojoon slid a hand over and pulled his apart, instead taking his warm palm and placing it on Dongwoon’s hand gently.

 

Dongwoon felt the smile growing on his face, tempered by shock regarding the situation, and he boldly slid in the bed next to Doojoon and curled up into his side, hugging him tightly and pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

 

“It was so hard,” he said, muffled by Doojoon’s skin. “I just wanted to tell you, about me, about liking you, everything.”

 

“I know,” Doojoon said, running his arm up and down the younger man’s back.

 

They were silent for a moment and Doojoon rested his cheek against Dongwoon’s hair. “I had kind of wondered,” he mused, “why you knew what books I had been reading but now that I think about it...”

 

Dongwoon flushed bright red.

 

“There’s this rooftop right across from my apartment…and sometimes I thought birds congregated there at night but…”

 

Dongwoon tightened his grip around Doojoon’s waist.

 

“Please don’t ask about that,” he said.

 

Doojoon chuckled and applauded himself for handing the situation so well. He still needed more alcohol, though. And a really, really long talk.

 

But that could come later.

 

 

****

 

Doojoon wandered into the living room from his kitchen, two mugs in hand. He was still wearing those black sweatpants that he wore so often, and a thin tank clung to his chest. He had obviously taken a shower, as his normally styled hair was soft and flopping down over his forehead.

 

He bypassed the couch in his living room and continued through to the next one—his bedroom. This time, as he entered the room, he was greeted by the smiling face of his lover on the left side of the bed, propped against the pillows reading. Dongwoon stared as Doojoon pulled back the heavy green comforter, sliding onto his rather large mattress, before placing it over his raised knees. He had their mugs held in one hand the whole time and Dongwoon was quietly impressed at his balance. Doojoon reached over to the small stand next to him and grabbed a book off the surface. He had started a new one, Dongwoon noticed. He read voraciously. “Here love,” he said, handing a mug to Dongwoon.

 

“Thanks,” the younger man said thankfully, adding in a gentle kiss to waiting lips as part of his gratitude. Doojoon leaned into him, bringing a hand up and running it through his lovers’ hair as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Dongwoon moaned softly and put his book down, bringing that hand up to run along his lover’s chest.

 

And then the tingling started in the back of his mind. Dongwoon groaned, this time disappointedly, in Doojoon’s mouth and pulled away.

 

“Have to go?” Doojoon asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Yes,” Dongwoon said sullenly, throwing the covers back and sliding out of bed. Doojoon watched as he stripped out of his pajamas and pulled on his black clothes. Mask clenched in his hand, Dongwoon flew just a bit from the foot of the bed to land straddled on Doojoon’s lap.

 

“Oh my god you startle me when you do that!” Doojoon exclaimed before his mouth was voraciously devoured by his younger lover. Dongwoon parted the wet kiss and took in Doojoon’s leaded eyes before muttering a husky “I’ll be right back.”

 

“You’d better,” Doojoon returned, pressing one last kiss against soft lips. “I’ll have to reward you for a job well done.”

 

Dongwoon smirked and went over to the now screen less window.

 

“You’d better be safe,” Doojoon threatened from his spot in bed.

 

“I promise,” Dongwoon said before flying out the window and into the night.

 

After all, he had people to save.

****

 

 

 

  



End file.
